Another birthday came and went in recent weeks. Although I’ve seen quite a few by this point, I am grateful for each one and enjoy a simple marking of the occasion. My wife, Judi, always bakes the cake of my choice as part of these celebrations. My request usually alternates between strawberry shortcake (the way my mother made it, of course!) and chocolate cake with chocolate icing; or perhaps a pecan pie just to be different. We’ve been eating out less since this virus business started and because of that, Judi had already served up one of each of those sweet treats in recent weeks. I’d gladly receive a second one of any of them, but it seemed like the occasion called for something new. I flipped through the cake section of her recipe box filled with choices from at least three generations of ancestors, several cookbooks, plus a few internet recommendations. My eyes fell upon an index card with details for a peanut butter cake with peanut butter icing. Already a fan of peanut butter milkshakes, peanut butter ice cream, and peanut butter pie, I considered the discovery a portent from above and chose it for this year’s celebration.
Judi later informed me the recipe claimed to serve sixteen people. I replied that they probably had very small people in mind or at least ones with dainty appetites, so not to worry about it. I rarely see more cake than anticipated as a problem, though it did cause a flashback to plans for our wedding reception thirty plus years ago. I have a history with selecting overly generous cake sizes. To accommodate interested parties in our respective home states of North Carolina and Indiana, we had two marriage ceremonies when we tied the knot – which of course meant two receptions. Which of course meant two cakes. Judi did the bulk of the planning and I was just fine with that so long as I knew where to show up and when to say, “I do.” However, for the North Carolina reception, she wanted me to select the cake. I studied photos and descriptions in the book provided by a local bakery. I chose what, in the photo, looked to be a modest sized three-tiered cake, accompanied by surrounding smaller, heart-shaped cake islands. I found it to be visually appealing and was quite pleased with my contribution to the planning. Sort of like instant replay with a basketball game, upon further review, my call was over-turned when it became known that the cake served a few hundred guests – far more than we were inviting. I, of course, saw that as an opportunity for multiple slices for guests or for freezing and then having monthly anniversary celebrations as long as the supply lasted. Alas, we changed cakes instead. Oddly enough, as well as I remember the cake I chose, I can’t describe the one that replaced it! All that is to say, I have a history of innocently choosing cakes that are larger than needed!
The peanut butter cake for my birthday was divine. I have savored every bite and moaned through most of them. There are a few slices still hanging out in the fridge, waiting their turn. One day, Judi asked if I wanted to invite a couple over and serve them cake. “Why?” I asked. She replied, “I just thought it would be nice to do.” I answered, “It would be. I’m fine having them over, but why do you want to serve them my cake?” She left the decision up to me. Somewhat sheepishly, I must confess that I chose having more cake for myself!
Sharing is a funny thing. It comes naturally for a while until one day it doesn’t. Children easily play together until, for unknown reasons, they opt for creating reserves of toys they don’t intend to play with, but don’t want their friends to enjoy either (at least I intend to eat my cake!). Plus, they’d really like to get their hands on the rest the toys while they are at it! Teachers along the way encourage us to share, which may actually make it worse. I’ll share many things I have, especially once I am aware of a need. I am often a “give you the shirt off my back” kind of guy, but I hate it when someone else tries to force me to do it. I don’t know how it is for you, but I notice an interesting internal tug-of-war where forced sharing begins to feel like being robbed even though the exchange is mostly the same as what I might choose to do if it had been my idea from the outset.
I have been thinking through sharing in recent weeks, though less about cake and more about space. There are similar dynamics involved. Living in a wooded area as I do, I expect a fair amount of wildlife to be around our house. It adds to the charm of the place and I try to do them no harm. There are limits, though, such as if their activity damages our home. Last year the trees were full of squirrels; this year fewer squirrels are in the area, whereas the woods are abundant with raccoons. Earlier in the Spring, I watched a mother parade past the front of our house with five babies in tow. I’d hoped they were just passing through on their way to some luxury destination, but apparently, our place is their Promised Land. Now I have adolescent marauders trying to find a way to climb a birdfeeder pole so they can feast on the sunflower seeds we put out for our winged guests. The fact that they are just doing what raccoons naturally do complicates the matter on a moral level. We all need to eat, and many of us return to eateries that satisfied us the last time we ate there. Should I work to thwart something that is merely acting according to natural instincts, even if it is taking advantage of generosity intended for others? The easiest solution would be to stop feeding the birds altogether, but should they be deprived of a food source for this reason? If I make my peace with sharing with the raccoons, but their activity destroys the feeder for yet a third time, do I still share without complaint? Alternatively, is the answer to trap and relocate the animals? Where are my concerns about boundaries and property legitimate and how do they interact with a “live and let live” philosophy? These contemplations took me back to an undergrad interdisciplinary class discussion about freedom where, drawing on class readings, I took the position that my freedom ends at the point where it began to interfere with another’s. I continue to think that is true, but like many concepts that seem obvious and easily defensible in debate, it quickly gets complicated in life.
As superfluous as birthday cake and birdseed may seem in today’s complicated world, some of these same dynamics are alive within most headline disagreements that rattle our communities. Islands and sea passage in the South China Sea comes to mind, for instance, where mutual claims for access to territory have difficulty co-existing. Unfair treatment of those whose skin color differs from our own provides a highlight reel of heartbreaking stories. These types of dynamics motivate and entangle most any activist cause, protestors and counter-protestors alike. We all have ideas about what we want, need, and deserve and design plans to obtain them if possible. In the quest to satisfy those urges, it must be getting easier to not notice, not look, or not care how others fit into the equation. Why limit ourselves or share with others when we can demonize the other and justify keeping it all for ourselves? I can give you a dozen reasons why that is the wrong approach, but I also know it is not always easy to share space with others. Even if we agree with the Psalmist that “the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it” (Psm 24:1), some of us are pretty darned sure we are its appointed guardians, if not wardens.
(Sigh) Wouldn’t it be great if sharing were a piece of cake?! I guess I have work to do. Do you?
You must be logged in to post a comment.